Olivia wasn't alone in the foyer, Julian hovering beside a tall, wafer thin woman in giant sunglasses. I knew who she was, of course, would have guessed she thought herself important regardless of her actual identity. What, in a bad mood all over again despite the hotness following on my heels?
Forgive me my natural redheaded inclination to temper.
Before Olivia could say a word, her beaming smile splitting her painted lips wide, the slender brunette with the tidy ponytail and elegant, if understated, jeans and flowing blouse slipped her glasses free and extended one long-fingered hand toward me, a real smile on her stunning face.
Willow Pink was even more beautiful in person, though in a fragile and delicate way that softened my rougher edges as her huge, luminous blue eyes met mine with the kind of genuine authenticity that she was famous for.